© Dr. Rajas Deshpande.
“She is oversensitive, Doc. I try to explain to her that this is so dangerous, yet she does not want to change, and continues to suffer” said the boyfriend.
As a doctor, I am expected to be sensitive. I cannot be a phony and pretend to be sensitive while not being so. Fortunately, life and times, parents and teachers have always insisted that I remain sensitive to the core. I think that is one of the most precious quality any human being can have after peace. Naturally, I am biased towards the sensitive.
However, there is a big difference between the ‘hysterical, dramatizing’ ones and the truly sensitive.
“Can you give me an example?” I asked him, as the girl looked at him curiously.
“Yes” he said, “Her boss keeps on saying demeaning things to everyone, and she almost always comes home hurt. Even if I comment anything adverse, she gets hurt easily. Like yesterday I told her that she should be more practical and instead of asking to spend time with me, do something of her own. We had a great fight after that”.
“What were you doing when she asked this?” I asked him.
“Oh I was at home, relaxing, as I was tired from work” he said, cautiously.
His girlfriend smiled “Doc, he was playing games on his cellphone. I was tired after work too, but he refuses to spend quality time with me as he is now almost addicted to social media and games. The only time he wants me is when he is hungry”.© Dr. Rajas Deshpande.
I saw at once what was happening. I was myself quite addicted to social media once, but now I have started to de-addict myself. It is indeed difficult, but for a doctor it is quite essential, nay, life-saving. My patient’s life and health depend upon the accuracy an wisdom of my decisions, and that is possible with only a hundred percent concentration. But that wasn’t what bothered me here.
I have been told umpteen times by people in the ‘business’ that “sensitivity and kindness” comes in the way of making money and other professional goals, that people skin and eat you alive so long as you allow them to exploit your sensitive nature. ‘Sensitivity’ to other people’s feelings is considered a weakness in most business circles, and right from the student days, we meet people who take advantage when you respect their feelings. This ranges from exploiting those who are mannerful, helpful, and kind, to creating a deliberate emotional disturbance for the competitor during a competition. Surprisingly, this is taken as a normal strategy even in such a gentleman’s game as cricket.
I could not find it in myself to be insensitive to how others feel. I could not switch on and off my emotional responses and sensitivity. Yet, I never felt that it was a shortcoming or a weakness. In fact, most of the patients I connected best with have told me that they find it very reassuring when a doctor is sensitive. Hence I devised a personal strategy: to keep away the advantage takers, the drama people, the insensitive robots who are only after money without caring about the feelings of others around them. Observe behavior rather than words, and you know a person well. This helped me quite a lot. I earn a little less than I would want, but I think that is a universal feeling, and that is never the prime aim of life.© Dr. Rajas Deshpande.
It made my life beautiful. Sensitive people bring much positivity, trust, faith and contribute significantly to the inner peace of others. With them around you are assured that you will not be deceived, not taken advantage of. That brings you the highest luxury upon earth: peace of mind.
Most bosses work on the perpetual Indian Corporate Philosophy “Unless you squeeze and crush, there’s no juice”. Employees at all levels are overburdened, asked to do a lot more than their job profile, forced to finish within insane deadlines and still treated like they are easily disposable. Employee health, physical or mental, is never the concern of any boss. A fault-finding, comparing, humiliating language is usually what bosses prefer and most employees accept. This builds up a culture of rudeness that is now accepted as a ‘reality and normalcy’ of any business. Very few honorable bosses treat their employees according to their sensitivity to enhance productivity. I wonder if Human Rights commissions or agencies, federal or private, ever notice this.
I asked the girlfriend if she wanted to contribute. She said she understood that he was stressed, but she worried about a ‘mental disconnection’ so common now because of digital addiction, and wanted to destress him by making him laugh and feel loved. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande.
“I want a mental bonding with him and that is not happening, as almost all the time he is home he is occupied with his cellphone. In fact, doc, when we started dating, he used to tell me that my sensitivity attracted him most, he thought I could best nourish his soul” said the tearful lady.
I explained to the boyfriend that sensitivity, so long as it does not impair normal functioning, is a very precious attribute, that he was extremely fortunate that she was sensitive rather than insensitive. To consider her “right to companionship, dedicated time together” as an unnecessary ritual, because he wanted more time for social media browsing and gaming was the actual problem. In these days of equality, to “want her to be sensitive and enthusiastic” only as per his convenience was an unfair expectation. He assured me that he will make an effort to implement a few changes in his routine. I thanked him for accepting reason.
As they left, a fairy-like young girl of about 7 years walked in with posh parents. Her mother kept looking into the cellphone, and her father started to tell me about his continuous headache. Like every normal child, the kid pointed at my stethoscope and said she wanted it. Just before I could allow her, her father shouted at her.
“No” said the angry father, and looked at her mother with an expectation. The mother kept on looking into her cellphone. Then the father thrust his own cellphone on the hands of the kid and said “Here. Play your game, I need to talk to the doctor”.
© Dr. Rajas Deshpande.
Please share unedited.
© Dr. Rajas Deshpande
“Sir, next is our old free patient” my receptionist announced on the phone.
Divya, the smart young girl of 8 years jumped into my cabin, and grabbed her chair with an authority. Confidently looking at me, she questioned, “how are you today?”
Her parents, embarrassed and charmed at the same time with her sense of ease in this big hospital, facing a doctor, hesitantly stood behind her. I requested them to sit down and went through the routine questions.
“She is all good now, no fits since last two years. She has been regular in her school and has started studying well too” her father reported.
I examined her and wrote her a renewed prescription. I noticed the mother wiping tears.
“What happened?” I asked.
Quickly smiling, she just gestured with her head “nothing” and looked at her husband.
“Do we need any tests, Sir?” Her husband asked, “We will do whatever is required”. I could feel his palpitations. They were scared that I may tell them tests, and that would mean financial disaster.
He works as a pantry boy and can barely pay the home rent with his salary. His wife somehow makes ends meet, looking after this sweet daughter and a younger son.
At the age of five, Divya had had her first convulsion. Her parents had rushed her to the government hospital. They did not have the money required for Divya’s tests and medicines even at the government hospital. So they resorted to something that hurt them worst: they had to sell little Divya’s silver jewelry, which was the most precious thing in their house. Even that was not enough, so they borrowed money and started her treatment, her father worked extra hours.
That was about three years ago. Divya’s fits continued, but her parents did not give up. Their whole life had but one aim: to stop her fits. Even after being less educated, Divya’s parents decided to go with scientific treatment, ignoring all pressures to take her to different weird people including magic healers. They did not give up hope, their will power was their boon.
Two years ago, a doctor friend sent Divya to me. With some changes in prescription, her fits completely stopped, she has now become just another normal child.
“No tests are required. Please make sure that she is regular with the medicines” I told them.
As I wrote this, I got a little emotional myself, this was the first time I had heard of any parents having to sell their daughter’s jewelry for her treatment. On one side, I was proud that even after being surrounded by perpetual pits of poverty, this girl child’s parents did not skimp upon her treatment just because she was a girl child (this often happens), but on the other I felt anger and shame that my country still lacks a basic healthcare infrastructure that can offer free quality treatment to at least children.
Yet, this had taught me my lesson. Willpower and hope are the mightiest and most precious jewels upon earth, far tougher and far more beautiful than any diamonds. For there are many who own diamonds but have neither willpower nor hope.
Meeting this rich family today was joy enough, but a greater bliss was when the kiddo put her arm upon my shoulder with the same confidence. The world is indeed hers!
© Dr. Rajas Deshpande
Please share unedited
© Dr. Rajas Deshpande.
“I have no life. I depend upon comedy shows to laugh, I don’t remember when I was truly happy anymore. There’s no connection with anyone. Inspite of working a lot and achieving too much, life seems complicated and meaningless at the same time. I have even started forgetting things now”: the 32 year old man was quite distressed when he spoke:
“Can you take a break?” I asked.
He laughed sarcastically.
“Doc, there’s so much competition in my field, that I cannot afford to take a break. They depend upon me for things to be done well. If something goes wrong, it reflects upon my career. If I am not available, I will be replaced”. He replied.
“What are your work hours?” I asked.
“I start from home at about 9 in the morning” he said. I waited for the remaining part of the reply but he didn’t speak. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande
“When do you return?” I knew the answer in his silence. I had heard it one too many times.
“There’s no fixed time” his wife replied, “Mostly after 9 at night, sometimes past midnight. But even after coming home his calls and online work continues.”
“That’s because I have to deal with the Western clients, their timezones differ” he snapped.
“May I speak with the doctor?” the wife asked him, a little insistent.
He nodded, looking down.
“Doc, we had a love marriage. He was not like this at all. He was full of life and vigor. He made everyone smile and had hundreds of friends. Now he has no friends, but even with me and our daughter, he gets hardly five minutes every day. On weekends he is so exhausted mentally to interact that the schedule is almost set: visiting mall, watching a movie, eating out and coming home tired again, immediately to sleep. He gets irritated without any reason. He was so attached to our daughter, she was his life, but now even she avoids playing with him. Even enjoyment has become mechanical” both of them became tearful.
Then, lowering her voice, she continued “Dr. Rajas, this is embarrassing, but who else can I tell this to? You are like family to us, so I will say it. We had a great sex life earlier. Now he seems to have lost all interest in me. We have lost our physical bonding just because of lack of time. And now we are losing the mental connection too, as he has started becoming quite forgetful” she completed. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande
They were the second couple today with similar problems.
Excessive work hours, traveling long distances, continuous multitasking without resting the brain and body and eating junk have become the lifestyle for not only most software engineers, but almost every doctor, sales and marketing person, and most other careers in India.
The concept of “minimal salary” and “maximum work hours”, so vehemently fought for by the human rights organizations around the world, seem quite unrelatable and impractical in India: not only competition, voluntary overwork, unrealistic financial expectations and unemployment, but a social tendency to “shove this phenomenon under the carpet” has led to a country of human robots who cannot connect with other humans.
India is an exploitation hub since decades. Cheap manpower is our famous boast. And the worst part is that they are thrown away instantly the moment their productivity is less than excess, or when someone cheaper can replace them. Years of loyalty, honesty, hard word had zero meaning in corporate world. You are just another table with an assigned process. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande. Be it secretaries, clerks, employees, students, teachers, or labourers, the message by the employer is loud and clear: work as told or go. We have many others to replace you. Eight hours of work with two hours of travel every day is itself very taxing, add two more hours of work and on is misusing body and brain both. Health is not on the cards here.
5-6 hours of sleep has become a norm with most of the above categories. For a normal brain, 7-8 hours of sleep is essential. Whatever one may hear about geniuses sleeping less, chronic lack of sleep does cause damage in the brain, that manifests as irritability, personality changes, forgetfulness and less mental efficiency.
Years ago, gymming at the Athletic Club in London ON Canada, I met an old man in the locker room. After the initial ‘Hi’, he asked me what I did. I replied that I was a postgraduate doctor, now a specialty fellow at the University. He said “Oh I did my career in health too”.
“Were you a doctor too?” I asked.
“No. I did many jobs, whatever gave me happiness and satisfaction, but I made my career in my own health. For decades now, I have eaten only healthy food, cooked for myself, taken good sleep, read a lot, traveled the world, played with kids and of course gymmed: not to show off my muscles, but to keep fit. I am ninety two now, healthy, and most importantly, happy”. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande
I told him I envied that lifestyle.
“It’s a choice, doc, and a sacrifice too. If you want health, you must give up anything that is against it. I had great job offers, but they did not go with my choice of a healthy life. Now I think I was right. I don’t have too much money, but I am happy and healthy. I had many friends with millions in their bank accounts, but they are either dead or can barely walk”.
I told that couple this short story. They appeared to understand.
“I will start working upon this, doc” said the husband.
One aspect of human evolution should be good mental and physical health. However we are going backwards. People have developed funny concepts: that muscles and physical stamina alone is health, that less weight is the best health etc. We meet many who diet excessively but piss of everyone they meet as they are continuously irritable due to hunger. Mental and physical health shows upon a person’s face: peace and happiness are its prime components. These are impossible without bonding with your family, ensuring adequate sleep and rest, and opting for stress-free career choices.
As for now, the ‘Killer C’ called career is turning out to be the biggest life- killer at least in India.
© Dr. Rajas Deshpande
Please share unedited.
(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande
The lady in the ICU appeared quite disturbed and shaken. Bewildered, she kept looking at her husband’s face, wiping her tears and his forehead with a corner of her saree.
Her husband, Mr. Mohan Vitthal Kadam, was critical, he had also gone completely blind suddenly and paralysed. While working as an electrician with a company in Jejuri, he was often noticed to have high blood pressure inspite of taking regular treatment with his family doctor. One day at work, he suddenly had a severe headache and went completely blind. Terrified, his colleagues rushed him to the nearest hospital. His blood pressure had shot up far above the dangerous levels. The local doctors gave him emergency treatment and sent him over to Pune. That’s why I had come to the ICU.
I introduced myself politely to his wife, and asked her the details. Sobbing intermeittently, she told me what all had happened. I examined Mr. Kadam. His BP was still high, but not in dangerous zone anymore. He was confused, unable to speak clearly. His left side was paralysed too. He pointed towards his head, indicating that he had a headache. His MRI showed many areas of his brain damaged due to high blood pressure. The areas which control the visual information coming from the eyes were damaged heavily. His brain was swollen dangerously. He could need an emergency surgery.
This condition, known among doctors as “Cortical Blindness” is a common but griveous condition: the patients eyes and the nerves are intact, they actually can see and carry the images to the brain, but the visual areas in the brain cannot see / read that information, because they are dead or injured. I informed this in simpler words to Mrs. Kadam.
“Will he ever see me again? Will he see our kids? How can he live the rest of his life with such blindness?” her questions came mixed with sobs and tears. I had very few answers, but I told her I was hopeful of a recovery. “We will first concentrate on reducing the swelling upon his brain, so we can avoid surgery” I told her. Their son came over and attended his father alternating with his mother. Mr. Kadam ‘s brain swelling gradually reduced, surgery was no more required. His BP was well controlled in two days. His paralysis also improved, but he still was completely blind.
Once he could understand the situation, he asked only one question: “Can I see my wife and children at leaast once in life again?”.
“We will try, I am hopeful” I replied. We had started with all the supplements that help recover brain damage. When he was discharged after ten days, he was still not able to see anything. He returned today.
“After we went to our village, many people told us to abandon allopathic treatment and go for secret herbal medicines and magical remedies. Somehow, myself and my wife decided to have complete faith in what you had told us. We continued your medicines and kept praying. The only light in my life then was the trust I had that I will get better. After two months, I could suddenly see a light bulb at night in our home. I immediately called my wife and told her so. Then onwards, there was a gradual improvement. I tried every day to see the faces of my wife and kids. In another two weeks, I could see them again That was the happiest day of my life.”. Mr Kadam became emotional. “Doctor, my company offered me a substantial sum as disability compensation, but I did not want money. I only wanted to see my family. Now that I can, I came here to thank you. Now I can even read a newspaper…but the darkness of being blind was far less hurtful than the thought of never seeing my dear ones again.. I cannot forget that. Thank you again, You are God for us” Mr. Kadam said.
I told him that I was just another doctor, that we were both cared for by the same God, that any qualified doctor would have done the same. I had not done anything extraordinary. But it is difficult to control a grateful patient.
“No doctor, we believe that doctors are God’s hands specially made to treat patients” he persisted.
I could only thank him. Thousands of doctors all over the world, all across India, do this every day, and receive blessings and gratitude that fills up their hearts with a joy that cannot be described.
Now I think there is a reason why Mr. Kadam came today. Many good and bad things happened in 2018. While making resolutions for the incoming new year, I was thinking once more what is most important in life. Mr. Kadam provided with many answers to that question. What matters is gratitude for what you have, especially health, gratitude for your family, and the ability to help others through their darkness. Who except a doctor is better placed to help others with health and life? Whatever other resolutions a doctor may make, one of them remains a universal favourite: ’ Let all my patients improve, and live happily a long life. Let me make every effort for that.’
Thank you. Mr. &. Mrs. Kadam, for allowing me to share this story.
(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande
Please share unedited.
(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande
Long day. Came home. Ritual steamy hot bath to wash away the hospital feel, followed by steaming hot dinner. Switched on jazz, and I picked up the pasta. Heaven descended upon my tongue.
“How perfect this moment is!” I thought, and that’s where I was wrong. The phone rang.
“Sir, 18 year old buy, had fever since a day, took some tablets, became unconscious, now comatose. Vitals are stable, although he is coughing occasionally. No past history significant. Poor family, cannot afford treatment. Father is a labourer. What should I do?”
“Get him into the ICU, intubate if required and stabilise. Arrange for an MRI”
“OK Sir, but Sir they don’t even have a deposit. They had first gone to the government hospital, but as they were not happy there they have come here”. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande
“We will work something out. I am on my way” I replied.
In an hour, after examining the boy and seeing his MRI and other tests, we concluded that he had viral encephalitis. The standard medicines were started.
The boy’s father, an obvious poor slum dweller, was in a state of shock. The mother, sobbing, told me the history. I reassured them. When I explained the diagnosis and treatment they asked some questions.
“We don’t understand anything, we are illiterate and poor. Do anything Sir, Just save my son, Sir” the father folded his hands together. Private hospitals have a quota for free patients, but usually it is always overloaded. I requested the hospital management to please make this a free case, they accepted.
The next day, the child opened his eyes. On the third day he started responding. I was quite elated to have his mother speak with him. However, his respiration was still shallow, and blood presure very low. His heart rate was fluctuating due to the effect of viral infection. He was still critical. I spoke to his parents twice every day, specifically reassuring them. Poor patients must never feel that they are not equally cared for. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande
That evening, as I attended my patients in the OPD, the patient’s father came in, requested that he wanted to have a word. He came in with six other people. None of them could possibly be poor, given their get ups.
The patient’s father looked at the giant next to him. “You ask” he said to the giant.
The giant, chewing his gutkha, askked me “What’s wrong with his son?”
“I have explained them thrice”I replied, “he has viral infection of the brain. There’s a lot of swelling upon his brain”.
“How come he is not improving? His BP was normal when he came. He did not have any heart problems. Now you tell us his heart is not functioning well” asked another medical superstar with white linen and gold teeth. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande
“Yes, this happens commonly with viral infections” I replied, feeling hopeless. How to teach complicated medicine to this pure- muscular class? I wondered.
“But you said he had infection in the brain. How come now he has it in the heart? Is the treatment wrong?” Asked someone similar among them, in a tone nastier than medical examiners.
I looked at the patient’s father. He was looking at the ceiling, deliberately avoiding eye contact with me.
“Listen, Sir”, I told them, “Your patient has viral infection, it has primarily affected the brain, but involvement or dysfunction of other organs is well known with such infections, this is not something new to us. We are on guard, dealing with the situation. Nothing is wrong about the treatment, in fact his brain swelling has improved, and he is conscious now. Ask his mother” I looked at her.
“I don’t know” she said, “we don’t find any improvement in my child. Nobody tells us anything”.
“Haven’t I explained you and his father patient’s condition every day?” I asked. They did not reply.
The white linen gold teeth spoke again: “We want a report. We want to show the case to another doctor”
That was a relief. I gladly wrote them a report. They went doctor-shopping all day. They returned next day. Almost everyone had asked them to continue the same treatment that we had advised, except some desperate non-specialist telling them to shift the patient immediately for a surgery at his hospital. Even our gold-toothed medical superstar understood that it was wrong! (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande
“We will continue treatment here only. But our patient must survive” came an open threat.
”I will do my best, but I cannot guarantee you anything. You may please transfer the patient under the care of any doctor of your choice” I told them.
“No no, you continue to treat him.But if anything goes wrong, we will file a police complaint. We will ruin this hospital”said one of them.
I am allergic to threats. I don’t allow them twice from the same source in my life. How could any doctor guarantee that there could be no complications? How could I say that the patient could not react to any medicine in such a critical condition? If every patient could have guaranteed improvement, what’s the need for a doctor?
“I am sorry, I am planning for a leave next few days. I won’t be able to see your patient. I have requested our management to transfer your case to another doctor” I told them.
There was a movie “Teesri Kasam”in which the lead character, at the end of the movie, vows never to help the character of the lead actress in the movie, because the very wish and effort to help her has shattered his life, caused him regret. Most Doctors are now being forced to take such a vow. Urban Poverty is not so simple and innocent in a hospital as it appears to the media and society. Whether it is the roadside rowdiness of slum dwellers who roam around with weapons or a maid’s drunkard husband in civilised society, we all understand the misuse of poverty status well anywhere outside hospital, but somehow when this happens in a hospital, the blame is automaytically pinned upon the hospital or the doctor.
But who among the vote-mongers will speak against the majority voting bank?
(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande
© Dr. Rajas Deshpande
As the highly educated family: patient, his wife and daughter stared at my face, I bought a moment of thought by continuing to write instructions. Although the intensity of what I was going to say would affect them now, I knew what the future held a difficult and mentally traumatic, draining corridor they would have to go through in coming years. How to say this? I felt sad. Even after decades of experience, no doctor feels comfortable telling the patient or relatives about a bad or incurable diagnosis. It is a curse we must shoulder. Because someone must say it, someone must sympathize and stand by the patient and family, someone must face the anger and frustration of a family that was till yesterday living in the comfort of good health, completely oblivious to the fact that things may go wrong anytime with anyone. . © Dr. Rajas Deshpande
“You have a type of Parkinson’s disease with dementia. The Parkinson’s is causing your slowness and stiffness, and the dementia is causing the memory loss and change in personality. It is good that you have come at an early stage, we will be able to prolong lifespan with a better quality of life. With your cooperation I think we can do the best possible for the patient. I will give you some links to read from. Please read them and meet me again next week, I will be happy to answer all your queries, doubts and concerns”.
The stunned wife started sobbing. The husband closed his eyes in agony. The daughter, unable to speak, held her father’s hand. Offering them some water and coffee, I explained the daughter instructions about the medicines, tests to be performed, and asked them to see me next week. I wanted to spend more time with them, but the relatives of a critical patient in ICU were waiting outside for me.
“Dr. Rajas, my husband has been a brilliant scientist. He loves reading, writing and intellectual interactions. In fact that’s why we fell in love back then when I was his student. Intellect is his life. We will both die if that is taken away from us”. It was then that I looked at the lady carefully, because till now my mind was occupied with the patient. A very graceful, intelligent, upright and hence beautiful face, the one that tells stories about the highest culture and upbringing that there is. The grey hair added to the loving kindness of her expression. Intelligent Humility, that one element often absent from so many beautiful faces, was abundant upon hers. Somehow I remembered my mother.© Dr. Rajas Deshpande
“I understand, mam. Things are not so bad as of now, and we are still in the evaluation phase. I can give you a better idea about the future once I see the results of all the tests.
It was then that the daughter spoke: “Doctor, I am in India for only the next week. Can we complete the workup before next week, because I cannot postpone my travel back to the US. And yes, I want the best to be done for my father. ” the daughter said.
“Ok” I said. I have now come to accept the socio-cultural changes.
They came next week, the diagnosis was confirmed, I counseled them.
Then I explained the medicines and other care to the patient’s wife.
“Did you understand it well, mom?” asked the daughter, “because I will not be able to help you with this everyday”. The mother replied with her kind smile.
Three months later, the patient came back, with the daughter and her husband.
‘Doc, mom passed away with a sudden heart attack a month ago. She never told us she had any complaints”.
This happens so often: that when a family member is affected, everything revolves around their health, and the warning signs of caretaker’s disease are ignored till the last moment.
“Dad has become worse now. He doesn’t eat well, doesn’t speak with us. . We tried to encourage him to make new friends with his old age home society, but he doesn’t want to interact with others, he has always been stubborn. We have arranged for a caretaker, but dad doesn’t talk to him either.”
Looking at the patient, I realized how much emotional support he needed at that moment.
“I am sorry to know about your mother. Such a nice and kind lady!” I said.
“Thanks, doc. But now you must help us. Please help us find a good old-age nursing home for dad. I cannot stay back. We can pay well”.. she had a hint of “please let us get this over fast” in her speech.
“You said you wanted to do the best for your father. The best would be for you to be with him in these days, talk with him, connect him back with life for whatever remaining awareness he has left. There’s no other person upon earth that he will ever connect with, so this becomes your responsibility”. She knew the truth well, for she broke down. “I know doctor, but I have my family to look after. I cannot take my father with me. I am sorry”.© Dr. Rajas Deshpande
She visited again with the patient, before leaving for the US. A bank officer and a lawyer accompanied them.
“Dr. Deshpande, I need a certificate, my father cannot sign, and is in no condition to think coherent now. So we want to get his banking and legal formalities about our property completed with thumb impressions. I need you to authenticate dad’s thumb impression”.
The old man printed his thumb impression in my presence. Somewhere within, I knew he was violently crying although he must be hiding it just so that his daughter doesn’t feel bad while leaving him.
That Thumb impression, Decoded, was in fact the stark face of today’s society.
© Dr. Rajas Deshpande
Please share unedited.
© Dr. Rajas Deshpande
A long fleet of luxury cars entered our big hospital. Sirens and whistles, security guards brandishing their AK 56s. and shouts of humiliation for the common men and women suddenly filled up the scene.
Hon’ble Babaji had arrived. A vacuous smile and blessing hands greeted one and all. Babaji was known to cure one and all with his blessings, secret medicines, chants, touch, and even exercises. There was nothing he didn’t treat, so he was the ultimate superspecialist with highest experience and cure rate. No deaths were ever reported among those millions treated by Babaji.
I was in the ward with some of my colleagues, a junior doctor then. The most reliable pleasure in the life of junior doctors is pretty, beautiful and handsome colleagues to work with! Rare exceptions with extreme merit are of course there.© Dr. Rajas Deshpande
A rich businessman and senior minister was admitted in emergency with a heart attack last night. Doctors had performed an emergency angioplasty, barely in time to save his life. Highest offices in the country had warned doctors to ‘do the very best’ for him, till the time he could be flown out of the country for the most advanced treatment. After the meeting of money, influence and power, we got a chance to request Babaji for a small interview to guide us inexperienced doctors. Looking at some of the prettiest faces among us, he gracefully consented. Here are some excerpts of the interview for the benefit of mundane, inexperienced new generation doctors and junta:
Doctor A ( looks OK): Namaskar Babaji! Can you tell us where you studied this art of curing all the illnesses?
Babaji: Beta this is the inheritance of generations, bestowed upon those who perform some secret rituals, it took me many years in the forest to learn it all.© Dr. Rajas Deshpande
Dr. Me ( looks ugly as you know): But Babaji, did you have patients to treat in the forests?
Angry Babaji: No. To learn this secret art you do not need to practice upon patients like your medical science. Once we know, we can directly cure everyone.
Doctor B (stunningly beautiful, common crush): Babaji, can you tell us how you treat a case of open head injury?
Babaji (with an gracefully sexy smile): Come beta, sit here, so you can hear me. We first hold some leaves hard pressed against the wounds to stop bleeding, then pray for the patient with some internal healing chants. We then call the relatives and explain them how futile and fragile life is, and ask them to accept fate. Usually they do. Some rare ones take such patients to hospitals. There too, some die and some survive. Those who survive mostly do because of the prayers. You can come to our place if you want to know how to treat all types of emergencies. We have even made some dead alive!© Dr. Rajas Deshpande
Doctor C (Meritorious. That’s all.): Babaji, there are so many poor patients dying in so many government hospitals, in small villages, everywhere. There are so many hunger deaths too. How come you and your chelas are never seen working your magical powers for such poor and needy patients? In the same time that you visit a businessman, minister or appear in a TV interview, you could treat and cure hundreds with the power you claim to have.
Babaji (red): You will not understand, because you do not have faith. Next question.
Doctor B: Babaji, you and your drug company earn in multiple billions. You are a saint yourself, and do not have material aspirations. Then where does all this profit go? Are you secretly using it to help treat poor and downtrodden?
Babaji (drinks water): There are many charities we do, but one must not tell others what charity they do. We submit the reports to the government. I am getting late, beta, it is my prayer time.
Doctor A: Just one more question, Babaji.. it is said that you cure diseases like cancers, AIDS etc which have no medical cures. Is that true?
Babaji (winks one eye): If you ask me in front of media, I will say no. Because I do not like too much attention and fame. But if you come to our place, you will see the miracles that our ancient formulas and personally researched products can make. They are all FDA approved and safe. Millions have been cured. We treat everything!© Dr. Rajas Deshpande
Babaji smiled proudly and got up.
As he walked in the lobby, many poor patients and their relatives who tried to touch his feet were pushed away by his security. Only pausing to answer questions by TV channels, posing holy, Babaji disappeared in his luxury car.
I went back to the room of the rich senior Minister to record his blood pressure. He was on the phone, talking to someone “Yes, yes, Babaji just confirmed his plan to buy another aeroplane. I have promised him that you will design the customized interiors for his new plane. Come over tomorrow”.
Then, as I recorded his notes, I politely asked the rich minister “Sir, why didn’t you go to Babaji first when you had chest pain?”
He replied what most Indian Politicians, Media personnel, and many Judicial experts feel: “You are too inexperienced about these things, Doctor”!
© Dr. Rajas Deshpande
Please share unedited. Any resemblance to any human being or animal is deeply regretted and unintentional. Praying for better logic and reasoning in all human beings.
(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande
Entering the hospital that morning, I was wondering if I could finish early and go for a relaxed dinner with a friend who was visiting. Iwas in an excellent mood when I entered the hospital at about 10 AM. That’s when I heard the noise.
In the entrance lobby, there was a group of men, women and children, wailing, crying, shouting, pulling their hair, beating chests, and throwing their hands and legs around lying upon the floor. Few of them were shouting loudly “All doctors are looters. They robbed us and still killed the patient. How can our patient die? Catch them. Kill them. Burn the hospital” this was accompanied by abuses that cannot be mentioned. The security staff and PROs were patiently trying to tell the violent relatives that there were other patients and relatives, that there were women and children around, but the most vulgar of the abuses continued.
I walked past the abusive crowd and met my resident doctor in the ICU. The first case was that of an old man who had had a fall a week ago, but was treated at home for the first three days. Three days later, the old man had suddenly become unconscious, and on admission was found to have a large bleeding in his brain. If not operated within minutes, he would have died. Our neurosurgeons rushed in and operated him with a huge risk. Now he had just started responding, but was still not fully conscious. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande
“Why is he still unconscious, doc? Was the surgery not done correctly?” the son asked.
“We have repeatedly told you Sir, the delay in admitting your father has caused a lot of damage in his brain. We cannot predict when and how much he will recover. The surgery was done to prevent imminent death. In my opinion, he is steadily improving. ”I explained again.
One after another, different faces of suffering and allegations, pain and expectations kept mounting and in a few hours it became difficult to feel happy. I am seriously not the type who can keep a perpetual meaningless smile upon my face without actually being happy. However, I must keep calm and smiling, because the next patient will be coming in with a lot of hope, expectation and fear. I did my best.
But my hope of having a relaxed dinner with the friend was gone. All I wanted now was to go home, take a hot shower and try and kill the negativity that was cluttering my mind. The wails and cries of the crowd were still noisy in my heart. “Who must have died? What must their family be going through? What about their children and spouse? Was this preventable?” I was curious. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande
The casualty called. A young girl had come with fits. Her old farmer parents had brought her. Stabilising her, and completing the examination, I asked questions to her father. With teary eyes and folded hands, he told us “We have no one and nothing left. Please do something”. Reassuring him, I messaged my CEO, who graciously allowed to treat her as a free case. I started writing notes.
“What was the ruckus in the morning?”I asked the resident doctor standing besides me.
“Oh that!” he replied “That patient was admitted for a head injury two weeks ago. He drank too much alcohol, and his bike had slipped. We admitted him as an emergency, and treated him on compassionate grounds as he was comatose. The relatives were well aware about the poor outcome. We did everything we could. I don’t know why they reacted so. Someone told me that the local politico wanted to extract some funds from the hospital”. This was not unknown, but loss of life does cause unexpected reactions, the doctors and the hospital staff bear the brunt.
Many patients were treated that day, many came cured, many went home happy, many expressed gratitude. But the fact remained that I was unable to forget the wailing family and the accusing son of the ICU patient. Am I supposed to smile and be happy for those cured and improving, or am I supposed to feel sad about the death and suffering I see every day? The emotional highs and lows that happen in every doctor’s day are too wide, too heavy and dynamic. It is not easy to forgive and forget bitterness, thanklessness and paranoid accusations on a daily basis for years, and keep smiling in between. (c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande
My friend called. “Rajas, I am standing outside your hospital. Come let’s have a quick bite. My bus leaves in anoter one hour” she said. We entered the nearest restaurant. Her witty words indeed relaxed me somewhat, and she ordered soup and sandwiches, knownig my favourites. As the steamy soup eased my throat, I started telling her about my day. My cellphone rang.
“Is that you, doctor Deshpande? Do you remember my father Mr. Ramakant who you were treating? He passed away today. We were supposed to come to you three months ago, but as I was out of India, I couldn’t bring him. He had stopped all medicines”.
I winced. Mr. Ramakant was fairly healthy, happy and stable on medicines, they were told never to stop the treatment. How should I react?
“Very Sorry to know” I said.
“That’s okay doctor. My problem is that no doctor is giving a death certificate for him, as he had not seen a doctor since long. We need it for the funeral. If I come to you now, can you please write a death certificate for him? I will pay your charges” he said.
“Sorry, someone has to examine him and issue a certificate. Please call your neares doctor home, or take thepatient to the nearest hospital” I told him. As I kept away my cell, I avoided looking at my friend.
“What happened?”my friend asked. Looking at my face, she sensed it.
“Oh. Sorry” she asked the waiter to parcel the sandwiches.
Both of us knew that neither was going to eat them.
(c) Dr. Rajas Deshpande
Please share unedited. Please let the society know what a doctor’s day is typically like.
© Dr. Rajas Deshpande
The five year old girl stopped breathing. Her father shouted in a state beyond panic. With a fear of a death worse than his own, he choked upon his own shouting. It was about 4 AM. The dozing relatives of other patients in the casualty woke up startled.
The intern doctor Anu tried to insert a breathing tube in the child’s throat, but the right sized tube wasn’t available. Dr. Anu shouted at the nurse to wake up the medical officer on duty. She couldn’t: he was deep asleep, being drunk. The child started getting blue. The heartbeats became feeble. Another nurse ran upstairs, and literally dragged the junior doctor in the ICU to the casualty. He struggled and managed to insert the tube somehow, and with the breathing bag, artificial breathing was started. The child stayed unconscious, but the heart beats were heard well now. There were no beds in the ICU, so they managed her there itself, in the casualty.
Two hours later the medical officer woke up. Unclean and unkempt, stinking of alcohol and sweat and yet careless about it, he was usually seen roaming in the hospital with swollen red eyes, talking usually about the only three things so called “Men” talk about. In hating him, many diversely thinking junior doctors united. There were complaints about him: nurses, junior doctors and patients had all written to many authorities about his drunken demeanor, ill behavior, swearing and abusive language, and even a violent attitude: he was known to slap attendants, drivers, assistants, and throwing instruments in the operation theater. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande
Dr. Anu not only hated him, but was scared of him too. She hesitantly reported what had happened in the night. “We tried to wake you up Sir, but couldn’t” she said cautiously, just like all brave girls who cannot hide what they dislike. He laughed in the style of a famous ‘Manly’ hero of the times. “Such small things keep on happening in big hospitals. Don’t worry. If I wake up for every emergency at a government hospital, I will myself die. I am doing the duty for five medical officers alone. You must accept death as a part of your daily life. Don’t get emotionally involved in patients. Some will die, we can do nothing about it”. Then, without even visiting the child once, he left, as his duty hours were over. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande
The disgust and anger that flooded Dr. Anu came out in the form of tears. She went to the nurses room and sobbed. She had not dreamt of becoming a doctor like this: helpless and suppressed. The nursing Superintendent, a motherly lady, patted her. “It is good that he didn’t wake up at night. He doesn’t know even the simple procedures. He would have probably harmed the child more in that drunken state. The only thing you can do now is to quickly learn all the life saving procedures that you can, and then don’t be dependent upon anyone else to save lives”.
“I want to complain against him. How can a doctor sleep when a child is dying during his duty?” Dr. Anu asked.
The Nursing Super smiled in shame.
“My dear, who will you complain to? This drunkard is the son of a ruling minister. They own a private medical college themselves, many come to him to get medical seats there, so they have friends and defenders in almost all high offices. Whoever questions anything about him, faces not only the ire of his father’s political goons, but suffers at many other levels to. Do you think people don’t know his addictions and ill behavior? But when the government protects him, what can anyone else do?”.
Then, as Dr. Anu stared in vacuum, the Super told her one of the most beautiful pearls in medicine: “There are some bad doctors dear, but that’s where you come in. Your responsibility increases. Learn to be strong, learn to compensate for what others cannot do. Such sick doctors who pass out without learning, who come drunk to the hospital and mistreat patients are a curse to our profession. We can’t change them. The lesser number of patients they see, the better it is for everyone. You compensate for them by becoming better”. © Dr. Rajas Deshpande
The day forever changed Dr. Anu. Providence, as always, had rewarded her for her efforts in saving the child’s life only a few hours ago.
The sad fact still remains: that some students are not trained well. Some do not have the capacity or wish to become good doctors while some are ‘pushed’ by money and power. These are the people who have learned the most deadly Indian trick: to find a political godfather who protects them from anything you do, Feed his wallet and ego, lick him all over, and then retain the ‘license to medically kill’. Please check out how many ministers and political bigwigs own medical colleges, and how many use these as ‘power channels’ to make undeserving doctors, and one can easily know where the problem lies. This by no means suggests that only the doctors from private colleges are bad, there indeed are ill behaved and drunkards among doctors passing out from govt. colleges too. The point is that they are protected by some. To first satisfy all vote banks, then collect the multicrore moolah for admissions and then create yet another channel of corruption: Eligibility test! This is a nightmare for the truly willing and deserving merit holders. About this aspect of the matter, no politician ever speaks. Who protects the Medical admission scamsters? Why do not our courts act suo moto, knowing that so many lives will be at risk with doctors produced via scams? © Dr. Rajas Deshpande. The saddest part is that many corporate hospitals look for such doctors who are also financially recklessly aggressive, and then make them compete with the good and ethical doctors.
Today on the occasion of Gandhi Jayanti, many “trumpet tongues” will be heard speaking through their hats about the Mahatma. Introspection and truth are the beginnings of even knowing the Mahatma. The criminal corruption networks which produce bad, ineligible doctors by the force of money and power must go! These are the very doctors who bring a bad name and a shame to our profession. Many a good things in the profession, saving a million lives every day and sacrifices made therein bt thousands of good docs all become a waste because of such few bad doctors. Let us all stand united in improving ourselves, giving up what’s not the part of a good doctor.
Mahatma Gandhi ki Jay!
© Dr. Rajas Deshpande
Please share unedited